McGarrett got home at ten minutes to six to house filled with the aroma of good food. The table in the dining room was set for two with china, crystal, flatware, and candlesticks on a white damask tablecloth. Maggie must have spent most of the day unpacking and the rest cooking. He found her in the kitchen, putting together a salad to go with whatever was in the oven.
"I can't believe you actually made it home on time," she said, turning to embrace him.
"I could get use to this," he said, kissing her. "No more tears?"
"Told you I was done. Dinner in about an hour. I even found two bottles of German wine that I hope traveled well. I know you very seldom drink, but you have to at least give this a try."
"Anything to make you happy," he said. "The table looks very nice."
"I was surprised everything survived the trip. We're going to have to get some help to get the china cabinet into the dining room. You don't have one."
"Never needed one before. Is that what that huge thing in the garage is? Will it fit?"
"Yes, I already measured it. It weighs about a ton. Funny, I never used those dishes before. Just kept them in the cabinet collecting dust, waiting for a special occasion that never came."
"Tonight's a special occasion?" he asked, kissing her on top the head, drinking in the scent of her hair.
"Any night that you make it home before midnight is a special occasion." she said, smiling up at him.
"That's going to change," he said, holding her close.
"Dinner in about an hour. You've got time to shower and disarm."
"That's my Little Menehune," he said. She always complained about shoulder holster for the service revolver he carried being in the way when she put her arms around him. The .45 in the drawer of the nightstand was in a pancake holster worn at the hip. He'd never really liked the hip holster but tonight he'd wear it. Tomorrow he'd take her to HPD's firing range to see how well she could shoot. He knew he had to keep her safe. Then why was the idea of her carrying a gun tearing his heart out? She was a soldier. She had a sharpshooters badge and had been in combat. He knew she was familiar with firearms. Then why did he feel as if he was stealing part of the innocence she had managed to maintain through nearly nineteen years in the army and a war in the desert?
The sun was starting to set when he returned to the kitchen to find her icing down a bottle of white wine from Germany's Ruhr Valley. He wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Sun's going down. Time for a walk on the beach before dinner?" he asked.
"Hmmmm," she said, leaning against him, inhaling the scent of the sandalwood cologne he always wore. "You're going to have start getting home on time more often. A walk on the beach sounds perfect, after you take your medication." She handed him a glass of ice water and the pill bottle. He hadn't had a headache since he'd started taking the blood pressure medication and was generally feeling better. Not that he was going to admit that to anyone. He swallowed the pill and kissed her on the tip of her nose when he was done.
They walked down the path the beach holding hands like a couple of kids. She made him feel twenty, no thirty years younger. She had somehow managed to break through the layers of cynicism he'd built up over the years. She makes my world a better place, he thought, echoing what Duke had said about Lu. What was it with these women in uniform? They manage to find a way into your heart and make you see the world in a different way. He put his arm around her waist, holding her close as they walked at the surf line, the water washing over their bare feet.
The sun was setting behind the mountains to the west, bathing the beach in a golden glow. "It's so peaceful, this time of evening," she said, enjoying the sound of the wind and the waves until a jet ski blew by, sending up a wake and making entirely too much noise. "Except for that idiot. You'd think he'd be ready to go home by now. He's been at it since about two this afternoon. Every fifteen minutes. You can just about set your watch by him. Did he just salute?"
Steve groaned inwardly. He'd forgotten that the beach patrol had started using jet skies, a machine he considered to have been invented by Satan himself to annoy anyone wanting to listen to the wind and the water in peace and the bane of sailboats everywhere. He did say he wanted the stepped up patrols visible. He'd gotten them.
"I suppose that's the price of progress," he said. "I'm glad to see you're feeling better. You had me worried this morning."
"It was the initial shock of seeing stuff. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I'd had a chance to pack things up myself. I didn't have that chance after the War. I'm good now. I promise."
They walked further down the beach, listening to the sound of the surf.
"How does December the thirtieth sound?" she asked.
"My birthday? You want to have a party?"
"No, silly. A wedding. That way you never forget our anniversary."
He looked down at her, smiling in the twilight. "And I get the best birthday present I've ever had." He cradled her face in his hands, tilting it upward to kiss her. "Now all we have to do is decide where," he said.
"How about right here on this beach at sunrise?"
"I can't think of a better way to start a morning," he kissed her again as the jet ski roared by once more.
"Dinner should be ready by now. He's better than an oven timer," she said, laughing.
They walked back to the house, holding hands.
Lu's phone rang as she stepped out of the shower. She didn't make it to the phone in time to answer but when she checked the caller ID and saw a missed call from Duke she hit re-dial.
"Hey, magic lady," he said when he answered. "I was starting to get worried about you."
"I was in the shower."
"Does this mean you're naked?" he asked, hopefully.
"And if I am? You planning on doing anything about it?"
"Get dressed and get over here and I'll show you. That's an invitation, by the way. I missed you last night."
Lu thought it over for about ten seconds. "I'll be there in forty-five minutes. Missed you too." She hung up her phone, humming a happy little tune that would have made every troop in her command question her sanity if they had heard her. She got dressed, threw a few things into an overnight bag, and practically skipped down the stairs and out the building to her car.
She never noticed the car that pulled out behind her and followed her to Duke's house.
Maggie had three glasses of wine and was feeling a little tipsy. Steve considered a happy, tipsy Maggie a huge improvement over the one he'd found crying in the garage that morning. They were on the sofa, Maggie curled up next to him reading while he pretended to watch the Yankees. It's time,he thought. Time I realized I've got someone I can share my life with. She doesn't ask, she doesn't pry, she simply waits for me to tell her. It's time, she needs to know. If for no other reason than to stop fretting about the possibility she can't give me a child.
"My Little Menehune," he said, turning off the TV as he did. "We need to talk. I know that's suppose to be your line, but tonight it's mine." He kissed her softly.
"Is this about the wedding? I thought we had that settled. December thirtieth at sunrise," she said, closing her book.
"In a way, yes. Can you understand that before I met you there wasn't anyone I could share personal things with and I got out of the habit. Then I met you and everything changed. This is about as personal as it gets. You know I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you?
"If you don't you're wasting a really nice engagement ring," she said, wondering where all this was leading.
He was playing with her hair, twisting the strands of silver around his fingers. He had always been attracted to women with long, flowing hair and Maggie's was magnificent. "A long time ago, I met a woman name Margo Cooper. She was a photojournalists on assignment here in Hawaii. I wanted to marry her. She didn't like the idea of being married to what she called a 'twenty-eight hour cop', and we broke up. Eight years later, she came back to Hawaii. She was here for two days. When she left, she was carrying my child. I didn't know until eight months later when she called, asking questions about my health history, and she only did that because her doctor had insisted. She was in New York at the time and something told me I needed to find out what was going on. I got the next plane out and found a very pregnant Margo waiting for me. I wanted to get married, she refused. Her only concession was to give him my name."
She looked up at him, her eyes soft with love. "I think today was the day for putting the past to rest for both of us. I told you about my Lydia, time for you to tell me about your son. That explains the pictures in the drawer. You have a son. How old is he now?"
"What pictures?" he asked giving her a quizzical look.
"The ones in the drawer of the table by the door where you put all the mail. You know me, I never can find a pen when I need one. I thought maybe there was one in the drawer. I saw the edge of the photo and had to look, being the nosy reporter that I am. I thought it was a picture of you from when you were at Annapolis, only the uniform was wrong and his eyes are brown not blue. Other than that, he looks just like you. You want to tell me about him now? Or do I have to coerce the information out of you?" she said, unbuttoning his shirt to gently massage his shoulders.
"I think I like that kind of coercion. He just turned twenty-one. He graduated from Annapolis in May. I couldn't go because I was here chasing down a drug lord from the mainland. In a way Margo was right. She said I was too much of a cop to make a good father."
"Doesn't sound like she gave you much of a chance," Maggie said, continuing to massage his shoulders, trying to ease the tension in the muscles.
"She had her own ideas about that. I got to see him once a year. I guess she was afraid he'd want to be a twenty-eight hour a day cop like his father. She wouldn't even take child support from me. Said she made more than enough to take care of him. I'd send the checks and she'd send them back. I finally started a bank account for the kid, thinking maybe buy him a car when he got his license and help pay for college. She bought the car before I even knew he had the license and the Navy paid for college. If he ever decides to buy a house, he's going to have a nice down payment that his mother isn't going to have a damned thing to say about."
"What was she like?" Maggie asked.
"Beautiful, brilliant, talented, and stubborn. She always said she could never do the Susie Homemaker act. She wanted me to go with her. Follow her around the globe. I would have lasted about ten minutes."
"Did you love her?"
He hesitated for a moment. "Yes, I did. I guess it wasn't enough."
"She had a son with you. She must have loved you back, at least a little."
"Maybe. Who knows? I use to think it didn't work out because we were both too stubborn to compromise."
"Odd how things work out." She reached up to brush the hair off his forehead. "At least you've a son. Wow! I'm going to be a step-mom. What's his name and when do I get to meet . Wait, he's going to be here for the wedding, right?" She wrapped her arms around his neck. "You have no idea how happy that makes me."
"Yes, I will invite him to the wedding. I wanted him to fly in when you met my sister, except he was on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic at the time. His name is John Cooper McGarrett, but he insists on being called Cooper. Why does this make you happy?"
She got quiet, thinking before she spoke. "I thought that I was cheating you out of a family because I don't know if I can have children. I feel better now, though, because I am going to make one awesome grandma one of these days. Now you can take the pictures out of the drawer and put them on the wall where they belong."
"Lady, you are amazing." he said, burying his face in her hair. "You find out I've got a son and five minutes later you're ready to be a grandma. You're going to be one sexy grandma."
"Flattery will get you just about anywhere, Big Guy," she said, repeating a line that always made him happy. "Anything else I need to know about? No more little Stevie's running around?"
"No, sweetie," he said. "Just the one. How about you? Any old boyfriends out there I should know about?"
"No," she said, softly. "It was always just Michael. And then you. That's it."
"Now I'm flattered. Not even a high school sweetheart back in Louisiana waiting for you to come back home?"
"You've never been to Grande Isle or you would know exactly how ridiculous that idea is. The entire island is smaller than Ft. Shafter. The only thing out there is marsh, swamp, and the Gulf of Mexico. You either work the boats or for the oil companies or at the sugar refinery. Not a great career path for women. The last thing I ever wanted to do was get stuck on a barrier island at the end of Louisiana. You, Mr. High School Football Star, wouldn't have given me a second glance. I was that weird nerdy girl with her head always stuck in a book. The one who was always looking over the horizon trying to find an adventure." She paused a minute, thinking. "Then I found the adventure. Or the adventure found me. I graduated from high school and spent the summer waiting tables. I knew that wasn't for me. A couple of Army recruiters came in for lunch, we started talking, the next thing I knew I was in New Orleans taking the oath. Hadn't the vaguest freaking clue what I had just signed up for. It was the beginning of the New Army. I was in the first class of female recruits to be trained with men at lovely place called Ft Leonard Wood. It was a disaster. They had no idea what to do with us. None of the equipment fit, especially when you're only five foot one and wear size three combat boots. We got snide remarks, called bad names, referred to as 'split tails', catcalled, deliberately set up for injuries, and had a couple of DI's from another company who openly stated that the only reason we were there was to keep the men away from the local women. I did what I always do, retreated into a book when I could and ignored the rest of the world. The women coming in today have no idea what we went through just to get a little respect from command."
"That's why you're so overprotective of your women soldiers."
"I suppose. Lu says I'm just channeling all that excess mommy energy I never got to use. She could very well be right. I got lucky. After AIT I got stationed in Germany. I met Lu and Michael and then what I thought was going to be happy ever after got interrupted by a war in the desert. Then I met you and it's a whole new adventure."
He pulled her into his lap. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. "You will make a wonderful mom. And a beautiful one. If we're going to have a baby, tonight's as good a time to start as any."
"Is that a hint, Big Guy?" she asked, smiling.
"Baby, that's a sure thing." He was unbuttoning her blouse, happy to find that she wasn't wearing a bra, when the doorbell rang.
"Who could that be at this hour?" she asked, sitting up and re-buttoning her blouse.
"Stay here," Steve said, getting up and drawing the .45. He pulled back the slide, chambering a round and thumbed off the safety catch. The doorbell rang again. He drew back the curtain on the window by the door to find two HPD officers, Compton and his partner Marks, to be exact, standing on the stoop in the glow of the security light with two men between them.
McGarrett lowered the weapon and opened the door. "I thought you two were on day shift on Hotel Street. Mind telling me what's going on?" He recognized the men the officers were holding. One of them Mark Meyers, the other apparently his cameraman.
"Volunteered for some overtime, sir. We found these two lurking in the shrubbery, Mr. McGarrett," said Compton. "They claim to work for channel nine."
"They do, or at least Meyers does. What are you doing outside my house, Mr. Meyers. Feel free to let me know at any time."
Compton thought McGarrett was being too nice. Meyers knew he was and decided that in this case, truth in journalism was a safe bet. "We got a tip that there's a hit out on you." he said. "It's suppose to happen tonight. We wanted to be here to see if it went down."
"A tip? From whom? Don't you think you should have called me first? Or HPD? Don't tell me, you got an anonymous phone call with no caller ID. I don't suppose you checked to see if you were followed?"
"Uh, no," said Meyers.
"You probably just led someone to my house. Now I'm going to have to find out who. You've been had, Brudah. Book 'em both for trespassing, please."
"What about the hit, sir?" Marks asked.
"There isn't one. No one calls the press to announce a hit, unless they're as stupid as the person they're tipping off. Get 'em out of here before they ruin the rest of my evening."
"No problem, sir. We'll take care of it." Compton and Marks handcuffed the two reporters and loaded them into the squad car.
Steve locked the front door when they had left, making sure the dead bolts were set. Maggie was still sitting on couch, her face pale. He switched the safety back on and put the gun on the coffee table.
"You okay, sweetie?" he asked, sitting down beside her.
"Is it just me or was that just plain damned strange? Is someone trying to kill you?"
"No, baby, no one's trying to kill me. If they were they wouldn't have called in a news crew. Hit men generally don't want witnesses, especially ones with video cameras."
"You sure?" she asked, concern in her voice.
"Yes, baby, I'm sure. Meyers has been out chasing ghosts tonight."
"I'm tired of ghosts," she said. "The only thing I want to think about tonight is you."
Her arms went around his neck as he pulled her back into his lap. "Wasn't that shirt unbuttoned earlier?"
"Like this," she said, slowly undoing the buttons.
"Yes, like that," he said, his hands reaching under the fabric. The cop part of his mind that was always on duty was wondering who had called Meyers. He had a bad feeling that someone was looking for security gaps, trying to find out what they were. Now whoever the shadowy 'they' were knew about the extra patrols by HPD. Tomorrow he'd start the process of finding out who, although he was almost certain he knew already. But that was for tomorrow. Tonight he had Maggie, and that was all he needed, or wanted.
Later, when they were lying together basking in the glow of really good sex, he stroked the soft skin of her belly, letting his hand rest on the warm flesh just above her pelvis bone.
"Your tummy feels swollen," he said, sleepily.
"I think I may be about to get a very rare period," she said, equally sleepy. "I've got an appointment with the gynecologist next week. Maybe we'll get good news and she'll tell me everything is working again."
"Doesn't matter. I love you anyway." He moved closer, holding her against his chest.. "Good night, love." He fell asleep soon after.
She lay awake a while longer... hoping.